I once found a yellow Rose
In the middle of a field of dead grass, weeds and briars.
She was beautiful in the middle of all that ugly
She had begun to slightly wilt
God must have placed this one Rose here as a symbol of hope in a field where there was none
She was stuck in the grass, trapped in the weeds and cut by the briars
She was hope that the beauty of this world may be lessened but not gone
I took that beautiful Rose into my life, replanted her, watered her, fed her, loved her, but in end she wilted, dried and disappeared anyway
Sometimes you can smell the petals but just can't seem to get rid of the Thorne's.
